


Lost and Found

by Dobby



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dobby/pseuds/Dobby
Summary: Her mother's sickness is what brings her back to Westeros after six years abroad.Arya Stark lost herself throughout the years spent away; falling for her best friend's brother surely can't help.Can it?





	Lost and Found

* * *

**ONE**

* * *

 

It was just like the old days; Bella recounting one her many ridiculous tales loudly, Weasel rolling her eyes at the dubious parts as she smoked a fag, Arya listening intently with a Corona in hand. It was all so _familiar_ and all so _unfamiliar._ So much had changed over the years, yet the personalities belonging to her two best friends had yet to wilt.  

The same couldn’t be said about Arya. They knew it, too, but neither had felt the need to bring it up.

“How’s yer’ mum?” Bella asked, changing the confident tune in her tone while explaining the matching story to the shiny rock on her ring-finger.

Arya shook her head, looking down at her fingers. “I wish I left sooner. She’s…” She trailed off in search of the right word.

“Different?”

“Sick. Like she has the flu, only it’s fatal.”

“Actually, the flu _can_ be fatal in some modern cases. Mostly in the elderly, but rare deaths among young and healthy adults have been reported.”

“Laura helps, though. Isn’t _that_ ironic” Arya continued bitterly after a beat; the ease of ignoring the plentiful knowledge that flowed out of Weasel’s head hadn’t taken long to come back. Her tone softened. “Sansa says she’s happier now with her. And _with_ me, but I doubt that.”

“I don’t.” Bella said firmly. “I know you weren’t close and you left Westeros on a low, but she _does_ love you.”

“I _should’ve_ left sooner.” Arya responded absently, taking a pull from the bottle. “I was so obviously gone in that relationship.” Weasel’s dark eyes narrowed in, her permanently-neutral expression replaced with a furrowed brow.

“What happened with Jaqen, Arya?”

Weasel was inquisitive. She understood at a glance while Bella needed an explanation, asked the serious questions whereas Bella preferred keeping the conversation light. But despite that, Bella flipped her ebony hair over her shoulder, pursing her full lips and focusing-in on Arya with her own blue eyes.

Arya swallowed thickly and shrugged. “Like I said, I lost myself. With him, it was _only_ him; no one else. No family or friends, just me and him and Laura.”

“Is that it?” Bella scowled. “I was expecting something more scandalous.”

“Seriously Bells’? Arya being mentally manipulated and abused wasn’t scandalous enough for you? You needed an ‘erectile dysfunction’ or ‘surprise! I’m gay’ situation?”

“Well, he _was_ fucking his art student.” It wasn’t funny at all, really, but the alcohol-buzz had slowly worked its way into their system. They were giggling like little kids.

“I missed you, Ar’.” Bella reached over and grabbed her hand, rubbing soft circles across her knuckles. Arya’s faint smile returned the sentiment.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“Why’s that so surprising? Yeah, I slept around in Uni but _Weasel_ literally came out as gay in your absence and you didn’t bat a fucking eyelash.”

“The only person who _didn’t_ know my sexual orientation was myself.” Arya snorted at Weasel’s dry comment.

“And Bells’, apparently…”

“Piss off.”

“Don’t be so salty, Rivers.” Weasel said, smirking, resting her head of matted blonde hair on Bella’s shoulder. “We just love taking the piss.” Arya smirked and downed the rest of her beer.

“I’m empty.” She tilted the bottle in her hands. “Next round on me?”

Arya left for the bar at their answering nod. The pub was a popular one – good food, great live music and a lively atmosphere enveloped her. Quick service, however, was _not_ something ‘ _The Kingsmen’_ possessed. She stood at the bar for all of ten minutes, tapping her foot impatiently with her frown deepening at every passing second.

Just when she thought one of the two people manning the bar sought her order, it _always_ ending up being some tall prick shoving his or her way through instead. She wasn’t all that hopeful when the old man’s eyes shifted in her direction once again, green eyes lighting up.

“Gendry!” He shouted bawdily. Arya only huffed as she felt the presence behind her loom closer.

“This little lady’s been waiting longer than me, Tom.” The bartender’s eyes shifted down, landing on her and widening in shock.

“Gods be good, lass – _You’re a short one.”_ Arya’s expression didn’t waver or soften. “What’ll it be, shorty?”

“A Corona, mojito and gin-and-tonic, please.” She said firmly, turning to dig through her purse as the man behind her stepped _even_ closer.

“Put it on the tab, Tom.” Her eyes snapped up at this.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, pretty blue eyes and wavy black hair styled back, with a neatly trimmed beard.

“Sure thing, Gen.”

“Don’t do that.” She snapped quickly. “I can pay for myself, thank you.”

“I was just—”

“You just thought it’d be a quick way into my pants?” Gods, the little alcohol she’d consumed had made her braver than she thought.

He only smiled at her assumption, quirking a brow. “Actually, my sister just pointed you out and demanded I help – Bella’s cranky at me for something I said _or_ did, not sure which _or_ what.” Arya’s scowl was quick to morph in a grimace. “I thought it might soften her mood to pay for a round.”

Her mouth opened and closed, his smile widening as she resembled an absent-minded goldfish.

“So, which’ll it be, lass? His tab or your money?” When she didn’t respond, Bella’s brother’s eyes moved away on to the bartender.

“On the tab, I think.”

Arya looked at her feet at Bella’s brother began listing his own beverages. When he finished, she could feel his gaze returning to her as they waited for their drinks. It was an uncomfortable silence that had her squirming.

“Bella never said she had a brother.” She finally looked up, meeting his serious expression.

“Half-brother.” He corrected, leaning down to be heard. “Apparently my absent father got around and disappeared after knocking our mother’s up. There’s five of us, all from a different woman.” She nodded before being pushed into his chest by some rowdy blokes stalking off with their drinks. He steadied her at the elbow, eyes narrowing in at the group.

“She never mentioned having more than one friend.” His eyes shifted back to Arya. “I didn’t think she was capable.”

“I’ve been away.” Arya stepped back once the crowed cleared slightly, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Overseas in Braavos.” She clarified.

“Better than the Riverlands?”

“A lot drier.”

“Warmer, too, I bet.” He ran a hand through his own hair. “How long were you there for, exactly?”

“Almost six years.” His eyebrows rose.

“Wow.” He sighed out. “Just visiting or back for good?”

“Back for now.” He grinned at this, looking away. “Not sure about the future, though.”

“Aren’t we all unsure in that sense?”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Drinks are up, Gen.”

“Cheers, Tom.” Bella’s brother said, grabbing the tray from the counter. “Come ‘round for a chat when it’s not busy, yeah?”

Tom the bartender waved his hand in reply before shooing off to serve another.

“Bella didn’t mention your name.” He said on the walk back to the table, his head thrown over his shoulder, Arya only two steps behind.

“Bella didn’t mention you at all.” His short laugh erupted from his broad chest. It was a nice sound, she decided. “It’s Arya.”

“Arya.” He repeated softly. “Well, since Bella’s too ashamed to talk about—”

“Gendry.” She interrupted. “Or Gen. It’s a weird name.” He laughed again, only softer.

“You shouldn’t insult people bigger than you, you know?” Arya rolled her eyes at another damned height joke.

“Then I wouldn’t get to insult anyone.”

He only smiled as they reached the table, Gendry setting the tray on the table.

“Did I pay enough to re-enter your good books?” He asked his sister who pursed her lips.

“One more round and I’ll consider it.”

“Not really worth it, in my opinion.” Weasel had her input. “Band playing tonight, Gendry?”

“Not tonight, Weaze’. Next Friday and we’ll be here.”

“Who cares, it’s garbage.”

“You’re close enough to know my sister’s a chronic liar, right?” He addressed her as she spoke. “I best head over to the lads before they get antsy. Have a good one, ladies.” He turned to his sister as he picked up the tray. “Not you, though.”

Bella glared at his retreating form.

“You never told me you had a brother.” Arya hissed as soon as he was out of ear-shot.

“My sexuality isn’t the _only_ thing that changed, Arya.”

“In all fairness, I only found out about him two years ago. Some woman rang up, acting all crazy and insisting we were related.” Bella rolled her eyes. “Turns out we _were_ sister’s, but that didn’t take away from Mya’s insanity.”

A pregnant pause.

“He’s fit. Your brother, I mean – like, _wow,_ Bells’.”

“How many times did you rouse at me when _I_ spoke of your brothers’ like that?”

“It’s one thing to say they’re hot and quite another to claim their babies, Bella.” Weasel remarked dryly.

Arya sniggered at the memory.

“And he _is_ very attractive.” At their baffled looks, Weasel continued. “What? Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate or acknowledge a decent face and body from the male sex.”

They all burst into giggles after that, starting on their fresh drinks as the night bore on.

It was a successful catch-up date, filled with laughter from memories and unheard tales. By the end of the night, it was safe to say they were drunk. Arya decided to head around ten, leaving her two best friends to talk on their own as she contacted an Uber.

No doubt they were talking on her; the _new_ Arya. The _lost_ Arya, the _wandering_ Arya. She couldn’t blame them. Sometimes, she couldn’t even recognise herself.

She stumbled inside the locked door and found her mother asleep on the couch. There were heavy bags under her closed lids, hair matted and greying at the roots. She looked sickly pale and skinny and old. The pang in her heart rose at the sight of her ever-so-resourceful mother.

When Arya left for Braavos, she was a picture of health; now she was dying. Slowly wilting away, both in health and personality.

Arya sighed, covered her mother with the rug thrown over the chair and trudged upstairs.

She passed Rickon’s door and heard the soft murmurs. He was probably talking to his girlfriend – _another_ change in her absence. Arya walked on, down the hall into the guest room. She opened the door and smiled softly at the small lump under the covers.

Slipping off her shoes and jeans, she joined her _daughter_ under the duvet, huddling close.

Arya pulled her little Laura close, hugging her tight to her body. Laura sniffed and shifted, but slept on soundlessly otherwise.

It was ironic, really, how she _never_ wanted kids. But here she was, with her six-year old girl; she’d _never_ be ready to let go.

Arya couldn’t help but wonder sadly if her mother had the same thought about her too, once upon a time.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my first work of fiction, but my first was terrible and I have since removed it (it really wasn't worth a read). 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this work of fiction. I'm not sure where this idea of mine is going but kudos and comments always help fuel the fire.


End file.
